


Baby Kinksters: At the Club

by shamelessly_mkp



Series: Baby Kinksters [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: KINK: D/s, KINK: bondage, M/M, Subdrop, Subspace, baby kinksters are adorable, character uses safeword, even when they're not babies anymore, kink: caging/confinement, kink: communication & negotiation, kink: exhibitionism, kink: light humiliation, putting the d/s in bdsm, the real-life scene, updated elsewhere as comment!fic, warning: author updates sporadically, warning: rough rough draft, warning: run-on sentences like whoa, warning: some kink consent issues, warning: subject to revision
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-22
Updated: 2013-03-25
Packaged: 2017-11-12 16:45:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/493478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shamelessly_mkp/pseuds/shamelessly_mkp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>basically, Kurt & Blaine introduce themselves to the real-life scene.  and ...go!</p><p>VERY ROUGH DRAFT AND A WORK IN PROGRESS. YOU MAY WANT TO WAIT UNTIL IT'S DONE AND EDITED, OR READ THE COMMENT!FIC VERSION THAT UPDATES MORE OFTEN.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: this is set somewhere in the nebulous future after both boys have graduated from McKinley and they're living in NY. Probably. It is inspired by, but not representative of, my introduction to the scene, and may or may not be representative of others' experiences.
> 
> It's incomplete and being updated [here](http://gleedsm.livejournal.com/6332.html?thread=260028#t260028) as comment!fic. This is a rough draft and I already know there are things that are going to be retconned, so like with Somewhere Only We Know, you may want to wait to read it.
> 
> warnings: none that I can think of that apply at the moment, save abuse of italics and commas.

It'd taken them a while to come to this. Kurt, surprisingly, had been the one to argue for it. It never failed to surprise Blaine that Kurt was the one who took the initiative in the kinky dynamics of their relationship. It shouldn't - Kurt'd always initiated the sexual dynamics too (even their relationship, really) - but Blaine never could help flashing back to Kurt's appalled face and his acclaim of "the touching of fingertips is as sexy as it gets."

 

Kurt really was no baby penguin, but he'd called himself that for so long that Blaine still associated the words with him.

 

Even though it didn't really make sense any more. Like now, when they were standing outside the rundown-looking front of what (from what Kurt had found on the internet) was a BDSM club.

 

A sex club. For kinky people.

 

Blaine so wasn't sure about this. But Kurt had looked so excited when he'd told him, and - maybe it would be fun. The idea of it made Blaine somewhat uncomfortable - he knew their relationship was kinky, okay? He'd read the articles Kurt had bookmarked for him. They'd even written up a contract, which Kurt kept, because quite frankly Blaine would be just as happy without one, but Kurt said they needed one, so they had one. It was just that their relationship was also private. Blaine wasn't sure he wanted to share something this important, this personal, with other people. But he'd agreed to give it a chance.

 

They'd agreed beforehand that since they weren't sure of how they'd feel with other people around, they'd sort of just see how it went. If they wanted to play(Kurt called it playing, but Blaine couldn't help but think that was too silly a word. They weren't playing, not really. They weren't a game. Kurt agreed, but said it was the easiest word to use, and maybe it was.), they'd play. And if either of them felt uncomfortable, they wouldn't. End of story.

 

Blaine felt Kurt's hand circle his wrist and squeeze tightly. It was like Kurt was holding his hand, but better. Blaine flashed a reassuring smile at Kurt, who was looking at him quizzically.

 

"You ready?"

 

"I was born ready," Blaine quipped, glad that his voice didn't break.

 

"We don't have to do this, honey."

 

Blaine bit his lip. "No, but I - I think I want to try," He said. "I mean, you were so excited -"

 

"That doesn't matter," Kurt cut him off. "If you don't want to do this, then we won't."

 

"I don't know," Blaine said honestly. "I don't think I can know unless we try, Kurt. And we can always leave, right?"

 

"Right," Kurt agreed. He looked searchingly at Blaine. "You sure?"

 

Blaine nodded.

 

Kurt smiled, sweetly proud, and pulled Blaine forward by his collar to drop a kiss on his lips. "My brave boy."

 

***

 

The first thing that struck Blaine about the club was how very ordinary it all seemed. He'd expected something more...sordid.

 

They'd had their IDs checked and hands stamped at the door, just like any other club. The only difference there had really been the no cellphones rule, which Blaine supposed made sense. He hadn't been able to figure out why until Kurt had whispered "cameras" at him. It was a good idea, really. Blaine did not want to end up online. And it would ruin Kurt's future.

 

Well, maybe not ruin, since he was going into show business, but it would certainly set him back some.

 

And what if New Directions ex-patriates saw it? God, it was already bad enough that Tina and Santana had guessed what was going on. And that by extension Mike and Brittany probably knew. And. God.

 

Blaine tried hard not to think about it.

 

The inside of the club was dark, but not creepily so. It was strange to see so many people in varying degrees of leather and nakedness, but there were probably just as many people just hanging out in t-shirts and jeans.

 

Blaine followed closely in Kurt's footsteps over to an unoccupied couch in the corner. Kurt had probably chosen it because it looked comfortable and offered a good view of the entire place. Blaine was just happy to sink to his knees and hide his face in Kurt's lap.

 

He could feel Kurt's concern in how his legs tensed and the hesitance before Kurt started to pet his head. "Blaine?"

 

"M'okay," Blaine muttered into Kurt's pants. "I just." He looked up and out across the club again. Maybe five feet away, a naked woman was tied to a cross and being whipped. Past her, a woman had a man tied up and sucking on her strap on. And - Blaine hid his face again, cheeks flushing red. It was just too much.

 

"Do you want to leave?"

 

Blaine shook his head firmly. It was mildly terrifying, but also ... intriguing? And besides, now that he was on his knees, everything that was making him uncomfortable was fading away into that comfortable familiar floatyness that was being Kurt's.

 

The hand petting him paused for a moment, but then resumed. "If you're sure," Kurt said from above. He hesitated again. "Would you like your hands tied? It might help make you less nervous."

 

Blaine hesitated. He wanted it, of course he wanted it, but to ask for it...

 

Kurt sighed. "I'm going to tie your hands," Blaine's boyfriend rephrased. "If that's okay, nod your head."

 

Blaine nodded, humiliated. Not only did he want it, he couldn't even ask for it.

 

"It's okay, honey," Kurt said, somehow reading Blaine's mind. "This is new. That's stressful. It was bound to bring back some of your difficulties with asking for what you need. I'll help you tonight, alright? When we're at home, I expect you to ask for what you want, but I won't make you do that here, not yet."

 

Blaine's face got crushed a little as Kurt bent over him, but Blaine didn't care, since Kurt was tying his hands behind his back with a small length of rope he'd clearly had hidden somewhere.

 

Another minute, and Blaine couldn't move his arms. He could flex his hands, and twist his wrists, but all it did was put strain on his shoulders. He did it a couple of times anyway, just to feel it. His boyfriend generously allowed it, knowing as he did how those few moments of struggle helped Blaine settle down.

 

It was perfect. Blaine sighed and rested his head against Kurt's knee again. So far, this wasn't bad at all.

 

Blaine drifted for a while, content to just breathe and enjoy the feeling of Kurt's hand running through his curls, the slight strain on his shoulders and back.

 

"He's beautiful," he heard a woman say from behind him. Blaine realized she must have been talking to Kurt when his boyfriend responded with a thank you.

 

Blaine almost twisted around to look - was she talking about him? Why? - but at the last minute decided not to bother. It was too much effort and he was really comfortable where he was. Distantly, he heard her asking Kurt a few questions and welcoming him to the club.

 

Kurt's hand tightened in Blaine's hair, making Blaine look up to meet his eyes. "Cherry here has offered to give us a tour," Kurt said. "Show us all of the amenities, so to speak. Sound good?"

 

Blaine hesitated. It did sound good, but he was so comfortable. Kurt must have read the indecision on his face, because he leaned down to kiss Blaine on the forehead in reassurance.

 

"How about this," Kurt said, "I'll go with Cherry to see what there is to see, and then if there's anything particularly exciting, I'll come get you. And in the meantime, you stay here, on your knees, like the good boy I know you are, and wait for me. How does that sound?"

 

Blaine thought it didn't sound quite as good as staying on his knees with Kurt, but nodded his head in agreement anyway. Kurt had been so excited about coming. He deserved to get a chance to look around. And Blaine liked waiting on his knees for Kurt. He liked being a good boy. (God, that was still so hard to admit, even in his own head, but it was true. He wanted so much for Kurt to be proud of him.)

 

Kurt stood up, but before he left with Cherry, he made Blaine move over to the side a little. "This is just to make you feel a little more secure," Kurt whispered into Blaine's ear as he tied Blaine's already tied wrists to the side table. Leaning back, he added: "And because I want you to try to take a look around while I'm gone. I know it's overwhelming," Kurt said quickly (he must have seen the flash of fear cross Blaine's face), "But I just want you to try. You can always shut your eyes again if it's too much, understand?"

 

Blaine nodded.

 

Kurt smiled. "Good boy."

 

Blaine didn't know where to look. There were so many things going on and it was overwhelming. But Kurt had asked him to try, and Blaine didn't want to disappoint him. So Blaine tried his best to focus on one thing at a time, not allowing himself to take in the whole just yet.

 

A few feet away, a group of younger people were playing some sort of card game - perfectly normal and vanilla, except some were in scene wear and one person was wrapped in rope.

 

Off on the other side of Blaine, the whipping scene had apparently ended. The man who'd been whipping her was wrapping the woman in a blanket and then leading her over to a nearby couch where, after he'd quickly gone and wiped the equipment down, he returned to cuddle with her and help her drink her water.

 

It was reassuring to see someone else doing the same sorts of things that Kurt did for Blaine.

 

The man who'd been sucking on a woman's strap-on was now tied to a cross and having his cock flogged - God, how that must hurt; Blaine couldn't even imagine -

 

Blaine tore his gaze away from that scene and cast his view elsewhere. It was still too much - the overload of stimuli was dizzying; he could feel the base of the club's music vibrating through his bones. Blaine closed his eyes again, glad that Kurt had given him permission to do so. He'd tried, the way Kurt had asked, he'd been a good boy, and now all he had to do was wait.

 

Kurt would come back and he would see that Blaine had waited so patiently and he'd be so proud of Blaine for being good for him.

 

Blaine let himself slip into the pleasant haze that always came over him when he was Kurt's. All he had to do was wait.

 

He didn't know how long he'd been drifting when Kurt called his name softly. Blaine opened his eyes to see Kurt kneeling down next to him.

 

"Hey, you," Kurt said with a smile. "I've got a surprise for you."

 

Blaine blinked slowly, trying to bring the world back into focus. "A surprise...for me?" He repeated.

 

"Mhmm," Kurt hummed in assent, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "I'm going to untie you now so you can go see it. You ready for that, honey?"

 

Blaine hesitated. "C-can I keep - can I -"

 

"Can you keep your hands tied?" Kurt asked for him.

 

Blaine nodded, blushing.

 

The corner of Kurt's mouth quirked up into a wry smile. "I think we can manage that."

 

Kurt untied Blaine from the table and helped him to his feet. "Eyes on the floor," Blaine's boyfriend warned him. "I'm going to be leading you, so you don't need to worry about running into anything. I want this to be a surprise."

 

"What if I -"

 

"What usually happens when you disobey an order, honey?" Kurt's face was soft and teasing, at odds with the silkily sharp tone he'd just used. It was reassuring - it meant that this wasn't a really important order, that if Blaine messed up accidentally he'd be punished, but not harshly so. "You'll be fine," Kurt said, looping a finger through the ring of Blaine's collar to pull him in for a kiss. "Just keep your eyes on the floor."

 

Blaine tried to keep his eyes on the floor, but it was hard. Even with Kurt's hand firmly wrapped around his wrists, leading him with pressure on the small of his back, Blaine couldn't help but stumble. He knew that he should just trust Kurt - Kurt wouldn't let him fall - but there was something scarily vulnerable about being led virtually blind through a completely new place. He'd been led like this at home a million times - well, usually on his knees, actually, with Kurt holding onto a leash instead of his collar, but still. He hadn't stumbled like this in forever.

 

"Relax," Kurt said into his ear. "You're fine." Blaine nodded, forcing himself to stop tensing up. Kurt must have been able to tell, because the next thing he did was to tell Blaine what a good boy he was being, how sweet, how brave.

 

Blaine basked in Kurt's praise, burrowing into the comforting safe feeling it provoked. He was being good.

 

Suddenly, they stopped. Blaine fell forward a little, not expecting the cessation of motion, but Kurt held him steady. "Okay, honey," Kurt said, smile in his voice. "You can look now."

 

Blaine obediently looked up, and his breath caught in his throat. It was ... beautiful.

 

Beautiful, and perverse, and God, sometimes Blaine still couldn't believe this was his life.

 

"Want to try it out?" Kurt asked, still holding his wrists securely behind his back.

 

Blaine nodded, unable to speak. He did. God, he did. Of course he did.

 

Kurt brushed a kiss against his cheek and then let go of him for just a minute. Blaine just stood there, unable to stop staring at the cage. It was all harsh dichotomy - black painted wood and gleaming silver chrome. It could have been a cage for a very large dog, based on the size, but it was so not a dog cage. This had been made for a person, made for someone like Blaine and -

 

"In you go, honey," Kurt's voice broke into his thoughts. Blaine thoughtlessly obeyed the tug on his collar and dropped to his knees, crawling inside. He shivered at the ringing clang of the door shutting behind him, and then almost started crying when he heard Kurt lock it tight.

 

"Kurt?" Blaine's voice broke a little, and it was barely loud enough to hear, but his boyfriend had superpowers or something, because it was mere seconds before Kurt reappeared in Blaine's view, visibly concerned.

 

"Blaine?"

 

"Touch me, please?" Blaine begged.

 

"Oh, honey." Kurt knelt down in front of Blaine, reaching through the bars to caress Blaine's cheek. "Do you want to come back out?"

 

Blaine shook his head. No, he didn't want out, he wanted in, he wanted to never leave, but it was so much and he couldn't stand it and Kurt Kurt Kurt

 

"Shh," Kurt hushed him. "It's okay. I'm right here."

 

Blaine was dimly embarrassed by his behavior, by the way he was almost frantically nuzzling into Kurt’s touch, but he <i>needed</i> it, needed <i>Kurt</i> to ground him, hold him down and anchor him, because Blaine was scared he might just float away.

 

“You’re fine,” Kurt’s voice said soothingly and Blaine closed his eyes tightly and just focused on Kurt’s voice, on Kurt’s touch, on Kurt’s cuffs holding his wrists behind his back, on the comforting weight of Kurt’s <i>collar</i> around his neck

 

<i>I love you, honey, so so much. I’m never letting you go, never saying goodbye to you. As long as you wear this collar around your neck, you’re <b>mine</b>, and I <b>will</b> take care of you.</i>

 

Gradually, he was able to take slower, deeper breaths. It was still incredibly intense, being able to feel cool metal bars around him and knowing that he was stuck there, that Kurt had put him there and only Kurt could let him out. He could breathe again, though. It wasn’t so overwhelming.

 

“Hey,” Kurt’s voice broke in. “Feeling better?”

 

Blaine nodded gratefully, still not opening his eyes. He did. He felt so, so much better.

 

“Look at me, honey. Let me see those pretty eyes.”

 

Blaine reluctantly opened his eyes. Kurt gradually came into focus in front of him. He was smiling, and Blaine instantly felt a warmth growing inside. He’d done that. Kurt was smiling because of him.

 

“Good boy,” Kurt praised him. “You’ve been so good for me today, so very brave.”

 

Blaine didn’t feel very brave. “I’ve been scared of everything,” he objected, looking away from Kurt in shame.

 

Kurt’s sudden sharp grip on his hair forced him to meet Kurt’s eyes again. “But you’ve tried for me. Even though you were scared. That makes you so very brave, Blaine, such a very brave boy, and I couldn’t be prouder to call you mine.”

 

Suddenly, Blaine wanted Kurt closer, as close as possible. He didn’t want to leave the cage, he wanted to stay where Kurt had put him, he wanted to stay in his <i>place</i>, Kurt always had a <i>place</i> for everything and everything in its place but he wanted <i>Kurt</i> -

 

“Kiss me,” Blaine begged.

 

Kurt smiled. “Of course.”

 

It was awkward, but Kurt did kiss Blaine, through the bars. It was a chaste kiss, out of necessity - Blaine’s face was smushed uncomfortably against the metal as it was - but it was just what Blaine needed. Kurt kissed him again and again, butterfly soft. It was beautiful, wonderful, and Blaine was <i>Kurt’s</i>, always, always and forever,

and Kurt could just kiss him like this forever and Blaine wouldn’t mind -

 

Suddenly, Kurt wasn’t kissing him anymore. Blaine couldn’t help it; he let out a whine of discontent. Why had Kurt stopped?

 

“Sorry, honey,” Kurt said from in front of him, his voice unusally tense. Blaine slowly realized that Kurt was roughly palming his own erection through his tight pants. “You’re so hot like this, honey, you don’t even know-” Kurt cut himself off with a groan.

 

Blaine was hot? <i>Kurt</i> was hot. God, Kurt was <i>sex</i> itself and even if Blaine hadn’t already known Kurt was going commando, he’d have been able to tell, the way those pants were painted on. And he was <i>hard</i>, hard because of <i>Blaine</i>, and no no no Blaine was supposed to get Kurt’s cock, he’d been <i>good</i>, so good -

 

“You were good, are good,” Kurt gasped, wrenching his hand away from his crotch to pet Blaine’s hair again. “So good for me.”

 

Blaine whined - like a <i>dog</i>, God - he needed Kurt’s cock, needed <i>Kurt</i>, always needed Kurt, please please please

 

“You want it, honey?”

 

Yes yes yes so much please Kurt please he’ll be good so good

 

Kurt’s laugh was fondly amused. “You’re such a slut for me, aren’t you, Blaine?”

 

He was, oh God, he was; such a slut, always always always please

 

Kurt slowly unzipped his pants - Blaine could swear he heard every metal chink pull apart, one by one - and pulled out his erection, fisting it casually. It was flushed and red and hard and Blaine could see precome leaking out the top and oh please Kurt Kurt Kurt he had to taste it, had to, wanted it wanted it wanted it please he’d be so good

 

Kurt teasingly brushed the head of his cock against Blaine’s lips. It was the lightest of touches, but it burned through Blaine like a wildfire, each tiny movement magnified a hundred fold. He could <i>taste</i> Kurt but Kurt wasn’t letting him have it, not yet, and it was worse being so close, so close and yet so far

 

“Please!” Blaine’s voice came out in an agonized sob. “Please, Kurt, I’ve been good, I’ll be so good, please-”

 

“Please what, honey?” Kurt silkily asked, still slowly jerking himself off.

 

Blaine clenched his eyes shut in frustration. Kurt <i>knew</i> what Blaine wanted, what he needed. “Please let me suck your cock.”

 

Kurt hummed consideringly. “I think you can do better than that,” He said, using his other hand to slip through the bars and tug Blaine’s hair sharply. “I know what a cockslut you are, Blaine, so go ahead and beg for it. Let me know just how badly you want my cock.”

 

Blaine begged. He didn’t even know what he was saying, just babbled on and on, desperate to say the right thing, to do the right thing, to be <i>good</i>-

 

Please Kurt he needed it he always needed it he never felt right without Kurt’s cock in his mouth in his ass fucking him owning him loving him please he wanted it wanted to <i>taste</i> wanted his lips to burn jaws to ache wanted Kurt close so close so deep wanted to choke wanted to try to take more wanted all of it wanted Kurt Kurt Kurt <i>please</i> he was a slut, such a slut, a cockslut, but only for Kurt, a slut for Kurt, for Kurt’s cock he <i>needed</i> it please please please

 

Dimly, Blaine heard his boyfriend groan from above him, and then <i>finally</i> his mouth was full. Kurt’s hand was fisted in his hair, and Blaine reveled in the pain of his tight grip, using it to keep himself there - he didn’t want to miss this, not a second of it, not even for the floating sensation that he loved, no; he wanted to feel every milimeter of movement, every sensation of heat and weight, the ache in his knees and in his jaw as Kurt <i>fucked</i> into his mouth, God, made him <i>take</i> it Blaine would always take it always wanted to take it he was made for this made to be on his knees made to be <i>Kurt’s</i>

 

Kurt was talking to him again, calling him _honey_ and _beautiful_ and _good boy_ , telling him what a slut he was, so desperate for it, so damn cock _hungry_ and wasn’t he lucky Kurt was there to give him what he needed?  What would happen if Kurt wasn’t there?  Would Blaine get on his knees for anyone willing to fuck his pretty slut mouth?  He would, wouldn’t he?  Such a fucking slut, he needs someone looking after him, doesn’t he?  Someone to give him what he needs, let him be a good boy the way he’s meant to be – look at all these people, honey, they can all see what a slut you are, how eager you are, how desperate, how fucking greedy – they can see that you’re _mine_ , my good boy, and they all want you but they can’t have you because you belong to _me._

 

Saliva was dribbling out of Blaine’s mouth and he looked a fucking mess, he knew he did, looked the desperate slut he was with his cock hard and red against his stomach, leaking precum onto his belly and dripping onto the cage floor, with his fucked-red lips and tearstained face still begging for more more _more_.

 

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is still just a compilation of comment!fic updates and very much a raw draft, but now up to date with where I am in the story.
> 
> warnings: scene gone wrong, subdrop, humiliation and panic of the non-erotic, non-fun variety; character uses safeword. some kink consent issues due to blaine's mixed up headspace from the subdrop.

  
EVeryone could see, everyone could <i>tell</i>, and just the thought of it made Blaine lightheaded, or maybe that was because he couldn’t breathe, could only choke again and again and he’d gladly suffocate if kurt would just. keep. fucking his mouth, would just keep using him like the slut he was.  

And then Kurt was gone and his mouth was empty and his jaws ached, his lips were numb and sore both, and he knew that didn’t make sense but not having Kurt’s cock in his mouth didn’t make sense—

“Look at you,” he distantly heard Kurt say incredulously.  “Moaning like a whore.  What would you do to have it back?”

Anything, anything; he’d do anything, Kurt, <i>anything</i>, just let him be good, let him make it good for him, please just let Blaine make him come.

“You want it that badly, slut?”  Kurt was jerking himself still, slowly, almost leisurely, and the head of his cock was almost but just not quite close enough to taste, and the words were cruel, dismissive, but the tone was fond and Blaine was saying yes again and again yes yes yes and it wasn’t even coming out as real words, he knew, but Kurt understood, he always understood—

“Then come for me,” Kurt said, and it was an order.  Blaine couldn’t touch himself, could barely rub himself against the bars, but it didn’t matter because he’d been on the edge for so long anyway and Kurt <i>wanted him to<i> and he sucked in a ragged breath and then he was coming, all over his belly and the bars and the floor in front of him and Kurt was telling him what a good boy he was, how obedient, how fucking sexy, and “Eyes shut; mouth open, Blaine” and then there was wet heat all over his face and Kurt must have come on him, he could taste it trickling into his mouth and he almost felt cheated because he hadn’t been able to see, hadn’t been able to <i>feel</i> but this was almost as good because it marked him as Kurt’s and Kurt loved it, loved seeing Blaine’s face covered in his come—

Blaine kept his eyes shut and his mouth open as he tried to catch his breath and come down.  Kurt hadn’t said he could stop yet.  And sure enough, then Kurt was gently wiping the come away from his eyes, letting Blaine suck some of it off his fingertips and rubbing the rest into his skin gently, still praising him for being such a good boy.

“You can open your eyes now, honey,” He heard Kurt say, and did so.  The world slowly swam into view and sharpened, came into focus.  The first thing he saw was Kurt, smiling at him, proud and appreciative and sated, and Blaine couldn’t help but smile back because he’d been <i>good</i>.

The second thing he saw was all the people that must have been watching, saw Mike and Tina curled up on a couch looking directly at him, and they’d seen him, they’d all seen him, oh god they had all <i>seen him</i> and Kurt was still talking, still praising him and telling him how hot he’d been, how much of a slut he’d acted, and nothing had changed but suddenly everything had and the lightheaded heat that had been burning through him had changed to a sickening chill in his stomach, in his head, and the come on his face was burning, a brand; he had to get it off, had to get out—

“Red.”

Blaine saw Kur tfreeze, but then he moved faster than Blaine might have thought possible (but not fast enough not fast enough he needed to be out now now now) and the cage was opening and Blaine ‘s hands uncuffed, even before he hada chance to leave the cage, but that was fine, that wwas good, and he was scrubbing at his face and scrambling backwards and he felt Kurt catch him, help him out, but that didn’t matter because it wasn’t getting better and he needed it to stop, wanted to be home and red red red.

“Shh, I know, I know,”

Kurt was petting him, trying to comfort him, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight but they were still there and everyone could still see “I want to go home. Can we go home? Please, Kurt; let’s just go home.”

“Okay,” Kurt was agreeing with him, again and again. “Okay, it’s okay. We’ll go home. I promise.”

Blaine was still scrubbing his face, trying to get Kurt’s come off. He had to get it off, he had to, and his face was stinging but it was still there, he knew it was, he could feel it.

Kurt’s hands trapped his and Blaine struggled against them, but Kurt’s grip was like iron and he wouldn’t let go. “You’re hurting yourself.”

It didn’t matter, that didn’t matter, didn’t Kurt understand? He needded to get it off.

“Shhh.” Kurt was trying to soothe him, Blaine knew, and then there was a soft wet cloth wiping gently over his face. “It’s gone, honey. It’s all gone, I promise. It’s okay.”

No, it wasn’t. It was never going to be okay again. Never never never—

“Shhh.”

Blaine’s face was suddenly buried in Kurt’s chest and he held on tightly, curling in tighter and tighter into Kurt’s arms, trying to be smaller, to disappear entirely, and Kurt was holding him so close that Blaine thought maybe he could, maybe he could just disappear into Kurt, fade away and sink into him, become a part of him like his bones—

Kurt was rocking him and he was crying and he couldn’t breathe and why wasn’t Kurt taking him home? He wanted to go home.

There was murmurred conversation going on above him but Blaine couldn’t understand it; the words slipped away and didn’t make sense and anyway he was choking on his own sobs and he just wanted to go home, Kurt; please, I want to go home.

Then Kurt was talking to him and by some miracle Blaine could at least understand him, telling him he had to let go just for a minute, honey, I promise. A minute, you understand? keep your eyes shut.

No no no - Blaine resisted, but someone else was gently but firmly disentangling him from Kurt’s arms and pulling him backwards and Blaine’s panic grew because he’d almost forgotten that there were still other people watching, seeing him and he was fighting, trying to get away but then he was being lifted off the ground and it was Kurt; Kurt had his arms wrapped around him and was carrying him and Blaine always forgot just how strong his boyfriend was, how did he always forget how strong his boyfriend was? And then they weren’t moving anymore and Blaine heard a car door opening and Kurt was manuvering them into what had to be the backseat so someone else was driving, someone else was there, and he tried to protest but Kurt just hushed him and held him close. “Just a little longer, honey. We’re almost home.” Which was a lie because they had just left the club and Blaine remembered how long it had taken to get there, although to be fair they had used the subway and driving might be faster although it was new york so who knows, but he wrapt himself in it anyway, coccooning its comfort around him like believing it would make it true. They were almost home. Almost. Just a little longer.

***

Kurt was disentangling them before Blaine had even registered the fact that the car had stopped. His eyelids flew open reflexively and he saw two people standing beyond where Kurt was turned to help Blaine out of the car, and he wasn’t even sure who they were and he didn’t want to know and he was starting to freak out again because they had had to have been there; they’d been at the club; they’d seen him; they knew what a slut he was, how fucking desperate and now how fucking pathetic he was and—

“Shut your eyes, Blaine. Right now.”

Kurt’s voice was sharp and not to be disobeyed, and Blaine shut his eyes, and the darkness, the not-knowing, it was scary but better, a familiar discomfort that always came with the loss of his senses.

Blaine wasn’t really sure how he got out of the car, but suddenly he was being lifted up into the air again and Kurt was carrying him and he felt like the swooning damsel in distress and he could walk, Kurt, he wanted to walk, he was a slut and a freak but not an invalid too; Kurt didn’t have to carry him; Kurt shouldn’t carry him.

Kurt ignored him, and Blaine couldn’t help the tears of relief that soaked Kurt’s shirt collar again. He didn’t have to walk. He didn’t have to do anything. He could just hold on to Kurt and pretend this was happening, that it had never happened.

Doors mysteriously unlocked and opened themselves and Blaine was gently lowered onto their bed (with the covers already pulled back; how were they already pulled back?) and then Kurt was coaxing him to drink some water and somehow his shoes had come off and he was curling into the soft comfort of their own bed, their own pillows, the crisp clean sheets that smelled like the slightly citrus-scented laundry detergent Kurt favored and he was tired, so tired, he ached with it and Kurt was warm and there and he just wanted to go to sleep, he was so tired, he—

***

when he slowly drifted back to consciousness, Kurt was still there, wrapped around him and hoarsely murmuring soothing words into his hair. Blaine must have made some kind of movement, because Kurt somehow knew he was awake.

“Better?”

The question was quiet and gentle, but Blaine could hear the sharply controlled fear and pain behind it. He’d safeworded, for god’s sake - he’d never safeworded. And for what? because he’d felt embarrassed? They hadn’t even - it hadn’t been - that had been practically vanilla! God, he was such a fucking terrible sub, and Kurt thought it was his fault, that he was being a bad dom because he’d made Blaine safeword when really it was Blaine who’d fucked up.

A gentle tug on his hair jolted Blaine out of his self-recriminations.

“Talk to me, Blaine. What happened?”

Blaine shut his eyes again, unable to face his boyfriend’s worried visage. “Nothing-”

“Bullshit.”

Kurt didn’t often swear.

“It was nothing - it was - I don’t know what happened,” Blaine said in frustration. “I just - I couldn’t - Kurt,I don’t want to talk about this,” he added plaintively.

“We have to talk about it, Blaine. You safeworded.”

“I know, Kurt; I was there,” Blaine snapped back. “I’m sorry,” he apologized immediately, scrubbing at his face in irritation. “I didn’t mean to yell.”

“It’s okay-”

Kurt was excusing it, pushing it aside, but Blaine wasn’t supposed to yell, wasn’t allowed to talk to Kurt like that, he could be upset or angry but not rude, not disrespectful, it was a rule and he had broken it and Kurt wasn’t doing anything about it and that wasn’t okay, Kurt wasn’t doing anything and rules weren’t meant to be broken, breaking rules had consequences and Kurt was still saying that it didn’t matter, that Blaine was upset and it was okay and it wasn’t, Blaine’s not allowed to talk to Kurt like that, he’s not--

 

“Blaine!”

The gentle tug from earlier became a sharp one.

“You need to calm down.”

Kurt’s voice was firm, leaving no room for the possibility of disobedience, but Blaine was being disobedient anyway, he couldn’t be obedient, he couldn’t calm down, what kind of fucking order was that, anyway? Kurt can’t make him change his emotions just on Kurt’s sayso, that’s not how this works, that’s not part of the rules-

“Blaine.”

Blaine kept his eyes shut and didn’t respond. Above him, he heard his boyfriend sigh.

“You’re right,” Kurt said after a moment. “You’re not allowed to talk to me like that. Not even when you’re upset. You broke a rule. And what happens when you break a rule, Blaine?”

“…I get punished?”

Blaine’s voice, when it came out, was smaller than he’d meant it to be.

“That’s right,” his boyfriend agreed, and Blaine felt Kurt taking his hand and squeezing it comfortingly. “Usually I’d punish you right now, wouldn’t I?”

Blaine nodded, not sure where this was going.

“But you’ve had a bad day, so I’m going to give you a choice. Do you want your spanking now, or do you want to wait till tomorrow?”

Blaine didn’t have to think about it. “Now.”

There was a long minute or so where Kurt stayed where he was, gently running his fingers through Blaine's hair. Then Blaine's boyfriend was urging him up, off the bed, and leading him into the living room.

Blaine wasn't quite sure why they weren't staying in the bedroom, but followed Kurt anyway, sitting on the couch when Kurt motioned for him to do so.

Kurt disappeared into their apartment's small kitchen and Blaine craned his head trying to see what--

"Eyes shut, Blaine."

Blaine crossed his arms in exasperation, but shut his eyes. Kurt had such a *thing* for "the element of surprise" and it was so--

"Knees, please."

Kurt was back, and Blaine obediently sank to his knees onto what was probably a couch cushion, Kurt pushing and prodding him till he was placed to his boyfriend's satisfaction, kneeling nestled in the v of kurt's legs as he sat on the couch.

This...was not how punishments usually went. "Kurt?"

"You can open your eyes, honey."

Blaine did, but it didn't make the scene any less confusing. "I thought I was getting punished."

"You are."

Kurt carded his fingers through Blaine's hair and tugged, sharply. "I want to try something new. It's not something we've done before, and if you find yourself too uncomfortable, you tell me, understand?"

"But why not-"

"Because."

"That's not a reason."

"Do I need to give you a reason?"

"...No."

Kurt nodded in satisfaction, then reached down and pulled Blaine's hands up to rest on his own thighs. "Stay just like this, okay? You can hold on as tightly as you want."

Blaine was feeling rather apprehensive now. What was Kurt going to *do*? HE *hated* not knowing what Kurt was going to do. And then his head was being tilted downward, exposing the back of his neck, and it was such a vulnerable position he coulnd't help but tense up.

There were several long moments where nothing happened and Blaine *knew* Kurt was just letting him squirm, he hated when Kurt just let him squirm, was it like, listed on dom's dos-and-don'ts lists as a mandatory thing or something? or maybe Kurt was just more of a sadist than he let on -

Suddenly there was wet cold on the back of his neck and it was burning, it hurt, and Blaine wanted it to stop, make it stop-

"Hold still," his boyfriend said sharply, and Blaine stopped trying to squirm away, digging his fingers into Kurt's thighs instead because it *hurt*, what *was* that, was it *ice*, what the hell?

Just when he thought he couldn't stand it a second longer, the ice was gone and Kurt's hand was on his neck, its body warmth sinking into Blaine's skin and soothing away the burn of the cold.

"Kurt?"

Blaine hated how shaky his voice was, but he couldn't help it, and he had to know- was that it? that couldn't be it, Kurt couldn't be done-

and then the ice was back and Blaine was again trying not to fight against it, trying not to cry out with the pain of it.

"Relax."

How was he supposed to *Relax*, Kurt?

"Just accept it."

Blaine closed his eyes and held on to Kurt and tried.

***

He wasn't sure how many times they'd gone through the same cycle when it gradually occurred to him that the ice hadn't been there for several minutes now and that Kurt was stroking his hair and telling him how good he was.

Time had gone sort of fuzzy, everything had, and all there had been was the ice and the pain, and Kurt's gentle hands soothing it away before bringing it right back.

Blaine rested his head in Kurt's lap and slowly let the world come back into focus, let himself notice the ache in his knees despite the cushion, the pins and needles that came from staying too long in one position, the dried tears on his face.

"Thank you," he said quietly (too quietly) into Kurt's leg, and somehow Kurt heard him.

"You're welcome," his boyfriend murmurred back. "I'll always give you what you need, honey. All you have to do is ask."

There was a pause.

"Do you think you can talk about it now?"

"I don't want to," Blaine said hopelessly.

"I know, Blaine. I didn't ask if you wanted to."

Blaine closed his eyes in resignation. "Can - can I have my collar?"

"Of course."

Kurt's hand left Blaine's head for a moment, and Blaine could feel Kurt leaning over to reach the side table.

"You brought it with you?"

"Chin up, honey." Kurt carefully buckled the collar around Blaine's neck and Blaine shivered as the pressure around his throat eased a tension inside. "I thought you might want it," Kurt said, brushing Blaine's hair back again. "Cuffs too?"

Blaine lifted his wrists up in response. Kurt lifted first one, then the other, brushing a brief kiss against the inside of the wrist before wrapping it in black leather.

"Talk to me."

"I don't know-Kurt, I don't know what happened, I don't know how to - I don't know how."

"Okay," Kurt said after a moment. "Let's start at the beginning, then. You were enjoying yourself at the start, weren't you?"

Blaine nodded, still hiding his face.

"Words, Blaine," Kurt reminded him.

Blaine made a face but obliged. "Yes, I was enjoying it to start with."

"Tell me about that. What did you like?"

"The cage," Blaine said without hesitation.

"Well, that I'd suspected," his boyfriend teased. "What else?"

Blaine thought for a few minutes, absentmindedly tracing patterns on Kurt's legs. "I - it was hot when you were talking to me, telling me - you know I like it when you call me - Kurt, I can't-"

"Okay, okay," Kurt hushed him. "I know. You liked it when I was calling you a slut and making you beg."

Blaine unwitingly made a short despairing sound. "I'm not a slut, I'm not -"

"No, of course you're not. You know that, Blaine; we've done that before, talked about this before."

"What does it mean when I call you a slut, Blaine?"

"It means I like sex, that I like sex with you."

"That's right. It means you're eager and desperate for me, just like I am for you."

"S'not the same."

"It's close enough."

Blaine half-laughed. "Close only counts in - "

"-horseshoes and handgrenades, yes, that's still a stupid aphorism. Back to the point. You were turned on, you were enjoying yourself - and then you were freaking out. I got that it had to do with people watching, but. Help me out, Blaine. What happened?"

"I-" Blaine stopped, took a deep breath and focused on the comforting familiar weight around his wrists, his neck, and started again. "I don't know. Just, after...I started to come back, you know? And I'd known people were watching, of course I'd known, and it - it actually was turning me on," he confessed. "It was that headrush that comes from - from when you call me things, but even more so - and then when I came back I knew they were watching me and it was *Real* and Mike and Tina were there, they saw me, Kurt, and all I could think was what must they think of me now? and it spiraled and your come was on my face, it was all over my face, and I just. I couldn't-"

"Okay," Kurt hushed him again. "It's okay. That's what I thought happened, but I needed to be sure."

"I'm sorry," Blaine whispered into Kurt's lap, feeling ashamed and useless all over again. "I'm so sorry." Kurt'd told him about his fantasies of dominating Blaine in front of other people, of showing him off and performing for the crowd - it was part of the reason they'd gone to the club in the first place.

"Don't be sorry," Kurt said sharply. "You have nothing to be sorry for. Sceneing in front of other people is a limit for you, and that's fine."

"I did like it, to start with." He *had*, it had been hot, so hot, before...

"And if in a while it still interests you and you feel up to it, we can work on pushing that limit, if you want," Kurt said, stroking his hair again in reassurance. "But we'll do it in baby steps, and not anytime soon. I think we both need to have some distance from this before we'll be ready to try."

Blaine nodded in agreement after a moment. It made sense.

Kurt hesitated a moment. "I know you were embarrassed when I asked Tina to look out for you Senior year," he said, letting his voice trail off.

"It wasn't the same," Blaine said, answering the unspoken question. "It's not - it was the sexual aspect. I mean, it still - I still feel - it's hard, knowing she knows, that Mike knows, but it's comforting, too? Just knowing that people, people not you, that they know about...this, about me, and they still...and Tina- I needed it, Kurt."

"I know you did," Kurt said gently.

"And she gave it to me, and she thanked me - *she* thanked *me* for letting her take care of me."

"Getting to take care of you is a pretty amazing thing, honey. I'm not surprised it made her happy."

"You have to say that; you're my boyfriend."

"Doesn't mean it's not true."

Blaine closed his eyes again and relaxed against Kurt's legs. He was on his knees, cuffed, collared, *Kurt's*. Nothing else mattered.

Kurt just quietly petted him - how did Kurt always know what Blaine needed? - letting him drift, letting him take the time he needed to let go of all the left over anxiety, the remembered humiliation.

Blaine loved Kurt. So, so much, and he told Kurt so, again and again, murmuring it into Kurt's clothes, into the couch, at the floor, the air, at everything and nothing because he had to, how could he not?

"I love you too, honey," Kurt's voice floated down to him. "So much."

Blaine didn't know how much time passed like that, but after a while Kurt was urging him up and making him walk a little - Blaine didn't want to, he wanted to stay where he was and anyway it was hard to walk when you were floating, whoever made up that saying about walking on clouds clearly had no idea what they were talking about-

"It's a metaphor, honey."

-well, of course it's a metaphor, it's a *dumb* metaphor, that's the point, and his legs were wibbly-wobbly and couldn't he just go back to his knees, Kurt? He'd be good, he would.

"I don't want you to get nerve damage, Blaine. You've been on your knees longer than I like already."

Kurt never let him stay on his knees long enough. He'd stay on his knees for Kurt forever if he could, he would, Kurt, he really would-

"I believe you, honey."

Then why wouldn't he let Blaine-

His boyfriend sighed. "We'll talk about it later, Blaine."

Why was that always Kurt's response when Blaine was trying to explain why he should always be on his knees?

"Because, honey," Kurt said, and his voice was patient but with an edge of frustration, "You always try to explain when you're in subspace and impossible to talk rationally to."

That was not true. He could be rational when he was floaty. He *could.*

"Uh huh."

Kurt didn't sound convinced, but he *could*, Kurt, he really could.

Kurt was sitting on the couch now and pulling Blaine down into his lap, which was nice, of course it was, Kurt-cuddles were always nice, but it wasn't what he *wanted.*

"You can't always get what you want, Blaine."

Blaine knew that, he wasn't dumb or a baby or anything, but he should get to just stay on his knees, it's where he belongs, and he likes the way it makes his legs ache, it makes it hard to stay, and it's so much better when it's hard and he does it anyway, is a good boy anyway, and why couldn't Kurt just let him stay on his knees? It wasn't hurting anything.

"It might be hurting *you*-no, you know what? We're not discussing this anymore. I told you no, and that's the end of it."

Kurt's voice was stern and Blaine couldn't help it, he pouted. Kurt poked at his bottom lip.

"Put that away. I'm not changing my mind, honey. You're staying here and giving me cuddles."

Blaine guessed that was okay. He did like Kurt-cuddles, and Kurt had him gathered close in that best way where Blaine could bury his head in Kurt's neck and listen to the slow steady beat of his boyfriend's pulse.

Kurt turned on the TV, and Blaine vaguely heard America's Top Model, and he liked that show, but turning around would be too much effort so he just listened, Kurt rubbing his back and dropping occasional kisses on his head.

Kurt's phone buzzed, and Blaine felt Kurt stretch to check the message. Whatever he read made him frown a little -

Blaine could tell from the tension in his body.

"Blaine, honey - I need you to come back now."

Why? That wasn't fair. Blaine didn't want the floaty feeling to go away.

"I need to ask you something and I need you to be fully there for it."

Blaine thought this was dumb. Blaine could answer questions perfectly well the way he was.

He felt more than heard his boyfriend sigh. Then he was being shifted off of Kurt's lap and onto the couch next to him and Kurt had a hand on his face, making him look Kurt in the eye.

"Blaine. *Now.*"

The sharpness of the tone was like an icy slap to the face and suddenly the world came back into focus.

God, Blaine hated it when Kurt did that. "That's not fair, Kurt. You can't just - make me come back like that." It sucked, and Blaine felt off for what always seemed like forever, and they'd talked about this before, they *had*. They hadn't made it an official limit or anything, and Kurt insisted that he only did it when he felt it was absolutely necessary, but Blaine didn't always agree with Kurt's idea of necessary.

"That was Tina," Kurt said. "She and Mike were worried about you, after last night, and she wanted to know if it would be okay if they came over."

Oh. That...that was a good reason to make Blaine come back. If Kurt had asked while he was still floaty, he would have just said yes and been happy about it, and he would have been so, so pissed at Kurt later.

"I-"

Blaine wasn't sure.

"If you don't want them here, honey, they won't come. Simple as that."

It wasn't that simple, though. He liked Mike and Tina, loved it when they all hung out - especially when it was at one of their homes and he could drop to his knees for Kurt if he wanted or curl up next to Tina and get his head scratched in that way that felt almost obscenely good.

But the thought of seeing them now, after they'd seen *him*-

"They were there last night."

"Yes," Kurt agreed. "They were."

A few things clicked into place then. "They were how we got home, weren't they?"

Kurt nodded slowly. "I know you didn't want anyone around, but I needed help, Blaine."

Blaine bit his lip anxiously. "They saw me... begging."

Kurt nodded again.

"And when you came on my face."

"Yes."

"And when I was freaking out and crying."

"Yes, honey."

Kurt's voice was gentle, but the confirmation still hurt, even though he'd been expecting it.

He looked away, not able to face Kurt for this. "I can't - what they must *think* of me - "

"Blaine, no. They understand. They're not going to think any less of you, not for what turns you on, not for what upsets you, not for anything."

Blaine wasn't sure that was true, but it was nice of Kurt to say so.

"Well, maybe they'd think less of you if you'd voted for Romney."

That made Blaine laugh. He couldn't help it - which he suspected had been Kurt's point.

He turned back to look at Kurt again, who was still just sitting there, waiting patiently for Blaine to think it through.

Blaine wanted them to come over.

Blaine never wanted to see them again.

Blaine kind of just wanted the night before to have never happened.

Kurt was looking at him contemplatively, and then he must have decided something because suddenly he had his cell to his ear and was calling someone-

"Tina? Kurt."

-calling *Tina*, why was he calling *Tina*, Blaine hadn't decided yet, he hadn't gotten to decide yet -

"Blaine, honey." Kurt's voice was gentle, but insistent. "Someone wants to talk to you."

Blaine couldn't help himself, he shrank back, away from the phone Kurt offered. He heard Kurt sigh.

"Tina, I'm putting you on speakerphone, okay?"

"Okay," Tina's voice echoed tinnily from Kurt's cell. "Blaine? Can you hear me?"

Blaine couldn't answer, but Kurt did for him. "Yes, he can. He's just not up to talking right now."

"Okay, that's okay. Blaine? You don't have to say anything. I just want you to listen, okay? Mike and I just want you to feel better."

"You had a bad night last night," Mike's voice added. "It happens. This one time, I broke Tina's favorite lamp because our scene went bad and I was freaking out. It was an accident!"

"I know it was an accident." Tina's voice was exasperated. "I told you, I don't care about the lamp."

"You care about the lamp."

"Mike-"

"Anyway," Mike said hurriedly, "that's not the point. The point is, it happens and we understand and we just wanted to check in with you."

"You have nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart."

Blaine wasn't particularly proud of the sound he made at Tina's endearment, but he couldn't help it. That, more than anything, more than Kurt's assurances or Mike's empathizing, *that* was what made his decision for him.

"You could come over for dinner tonight?" Blaine's voice was small and quiet, too small and quiet, but he couldn't make it larger. "If you still wanted," he added quickly.

"We'd love that," Mike answered for both of them.

"Seven good?" Tina asked.

"Perfect," Kurt affirmed, picking his phone back up from where it lay between them. "We'll see you then."

***

Blaine couldn’t stop moving, even though Kurt had asked him twice already to just sit down and be still.  He was too nervous, and Kurt wasn’t letting him help with any of the dinner preparations, and so he kept tapping out rhythms and pacing the floor and fixing the couch cushions so they looked just so, and then realizing that they looked terrible and fixing them again, and-

Kurt’s exasperated sigh interrupted Blaine’s reorganizing of the living room.  

Blaine froze.

“What did I ask you to do, Blaine?”  Kurt’s voice was patient, but reproving.

“Sit still?” Blaine offered weakly.

“And are you sitting still?”

“No?”

Blaine squirmed a little as his boyfriend studied him for a few minutes, not saying a word.  Then Kurt crooked a finger, beckoning him over, and Blaine went.

“I think maybe you need your collar and cuffs back, honey.  What do you think?”

Blaine hesitated - of course he wanted them back, he always wanted them back, but - “Mike and Tina are coming over.”

Kurt nodded.  “They are,” he agreed. “Which is why I’m asking instead of just putting them on you and sending you to your cage for a while to settle down.”  

Blaine’s breath caught a little.  He couldn’t help it - he was so wound up and it sounded so good.

Kurt was still watching his face carefully.  “It’d be like back in high school, when Tina was taking care of you.”

“But Mike -”

“Mike’s known, honey.  You know that.”

Blaine did.  Tina and Kurt had always been clear about that - Tina wasn’t going to keep her domming Blaine a secret, completely platonic or no.  And Mike had been there last night.

“It won’t be like last night,” his boyfriend said, proving yet again that Kurt was some kind of mindreader.  “You said that what triggered you was the sexual aspect, right?”

Blaine nodded slowly.  That was true.  

“I’m not going to make you,” Kurt said gently.  “But I think you’ll feel a lot better if you let me settle you down.”

Blaine bit his lip.  Kurt was quiet, letting him think about it.  “They won’t care?”

“No, honey. They won’t.”

“And you’ll take them off if I want?”

“Of course, honey.  All you have to do is tell me, and everything comes off.”

“Couldn’t we - can’t you take them off right before they get here?”

Kurt sighed.  “If they were punctual people, and we’d set a specific time, yes.  As it is, we said between six thirty and seven, and that means they could be here anytime between six and eight.”

“I just...Last night--I never want to feel like that again, Kurt.”

“Oh, honey.”  Kurt stepped forward and hugged him.  “I don’t want you to ever feel like that again either.”  Stepping back, he took Blaine’s hands and squeezed them in reassurance.  “If I thought for one second this would trigger you again I would never suggest it.  And if you don’t feel comfortable with it, we won’t.  Period.  I just want you to think about it.  You’re all spun up right now,”- and here Kurt reached up to smooth the creases in Blaine’s forehead and Blaine closed his eyes to just relax into the touch - “And it’s not good for you.”

Blaine nodded, eyes still shut.  He hated feeling like this, hated being “spun up” as Kurt called it.  It felt like his body was vibrating, like he had to move, do something, anything, or he would jump right out of his skin.  It wasn’t so bad at the moment, with Kurt’s touch soothing away some of the tension, but Blaine had to fight just to keep himself from fiddling with his watch, from tapping out rhythms on his thighs.

“Blaine?”

Kurt was still waiting for an answer, and Blaine wanted to say yes, he wanted to so badly, his wrists bare and aching with the ghost-sensation of being bound, but he couldn’t seem to make himself say it.  He opened his mouth and nothing came out, and he didn’t say yes, couldn’t say yes, but he needed to and Kurt was just standing there, watching him with that gentle look on his face and Blaine didn’t want to make this decision, didn’t want to have this decision to make, he wanted it made for him but Kurt wasn’t going to do that, not now, not after last night, and Blaine knew he should appreciate that, that later he’d be glad Kurt had been so careful about it, but right now he just wanted Kurt to be *Kurt.*

“It’s fine if you say no, honey,” Blaine’s boyfriend repeated, “But I need you to tell me.  Do you want me to settle you down - yes or no?”

Blaine still couldn’t speak but he managed to nod, face burning, hoping that that would be enough, that Kurt would use his special Kurt Blaine-reading powers and know what he meant.

He heard his boyfriend sigh.  “I know this is hard for you, honey, but I need you to use your words.”  Kurt’s hand slid around to the back of Blaine’s neck and squeezed firmly.  “Look at me.”

Blaine looked at him.

“Yes or no?”

Blaine took a deep breath in, focused on the calm that came from Kurt’s hand on his neck, and breathed out a *yes*.

Kurt smiled, and it felt like praise.  “Go get changed into more comfortable clothes.  White T-shirt, grey pajama pants.”

Blaine didn’t really want to get changed; he liked the outfit Kurt had picked out for him earlier and didn’t really want to be wearing PJs when Mike and Tina got there.

Kurt turned him around and gave him a little push toward the bedroom, smacking his ass and making Blaine jump.  “Go,” he repeated.

Blaine went.  It felt good, following Kurt’s orders, knowing he was being good, and Kurt’d been specific in what he wanted Blaine to wear so Blaine wasn’t staring at his closet trying and trying to decide what to wear because he knew, Kurt had told him.

After carefully putting away the still-clean clothes of his previous outfit, Blaine cautiously walked back out into the living room.  Kurt was waiting for him.

 

He smiled when he saw Blaine, and his voice was approving when he said “Good boy.”

 

Kurt cuffed his hands in front – Blaine liked them in back better, liked the strain on his shoulders and the way it exposed him, but Kurt was going to be cooking in the other room and he wanted Blaine able to use his hands if he needed to.

 

It made sense.  Blaine still would have liked the other way better.  It wasn’t his decision, though, and wasn’t that a relief?

 

Even if it meant he’d be the odd one out, wearing comfy clothes instead of nice ones.  His mother would have a fit, but his mother wasn’t here.  His mother didn’t decide what was appropriate for what occasion anymore.  Kurt did.

 

And Kurt wanted Blaine to wear these clothes, so Blaine would.  Simple as that.

 

Blaine sank to his knees in the corner, resting his cuffed hands on his thighs and leaning forward to press his forehead against the coolness of the wall.  Another line of tension melted away from his body as he did so, and Blaine couldn’t help but sigh in relief.  This was familiar, comfortable.  *Comforting.*

 

Kurt liked this corner because he could see Blaine through the open doors of the kitchen and the study both, so Blaine spent most of his corner-time there.  Kurt’d even installed a couple of hooks for the times he wanted Blaine a little more bound, and Blaine’s corner-cushion lived behind the nearby armchair.

 

Blaine didn’t really like that armchair.  It was the one Kurt sat in to silently watch Blaine on the rare occasion Kurt had used corner-time as a punishment rather than just – well, *corner-time.*  That was the worst thing in the world; kneeling, *feeling* Kurt’s disapproving gaze on his back, waiting for what seemed like forever before Kurt *finally* turned him over Kurt’s knee and ended it.

 

It was good camouflage for the corner-cushion, though, and it fit the décor to a T, so Blaine supposed it wasn’t all bad.  Kurt *did* look sexy lounging in it, eyebrow arched expectantly as Blaine walked in the door, making Blaine drop to his knees and crawl on hands and knees to kneel at Kurt’s feet and beg for his cock.

 

So maybe Blaine was a bit bipolar* when it came to that armchair.  Whatever. So be it.

*NOTE THIS IS A TERRIBLE USE OF THE WORD BUT COLLOQUIALISMS I THINK BLAINE WOULD THINK IT EVEN THOUGH WRONG WRONG SO VERY VERY WRONG I AM SORRY IF IT OFFENDS OR HURTS ANYONE I HAVE BIPOLAR TENDENCIES MYSELF (OFFICIAL DIAGNOSIS: MOOD DISORDER (OTHER); UNOFFICIAL DIAGNOSIS: BIPOLAR II, RAPID MOTHERFUCKING RAPID CYCLING) AND GET SERIOUSLY ANNOYED BY THIS USE OF THE WORD BUT IT IS RAMPANT AND I THINK ITS USE HERE IS REALISTIC BUT AM OPEN TO SUGGESTIONS OF A DIFFERENT WAY TO SAY THIS THAT STILL FITS A SEMI-INTERNAL MONOLOGUE /NOTE

 

Blaine was already starting to float a little when he felt a cool hand sliding around the back of his neck, coaxing him to lean back.  Blaine wasn’t sure what Kurt wanted, but then his favorite gag was pressing against his lips and *oh*, Kurt always knew exactly what Blaine needed, even when Blaine himself didn’t and Blaine eagerly opened for it, swallowed around it as it filled his mouth, pressing deep and just barely teasing at his gag reflex, making his lips burn and jaw ache, just a little, just enough, like it was Kurt and not cool plastic.

 

Blaine vaguely noticed Kurt buckling the gag into place but if he’d been floating before he was past that now, deeper or higher or however you wanted to put it and nothing really mattered but being Kurt’s, staying where Kurt put him, being good and loved and *safe* the way he only ever felt in Kurt’s arms, in Kurt’s collar, Kurt’s cage.

 

He thought maybe Kurt ruffled his hair before easing Blaine’s head back to its former position and *oh*, that was even better; Blaine didn’t have to keep his head up, didn’t have to do anything; he could just relax against the wall and just *be.*

 

***

 

Blaine vaguely noticed when the doorbell rang, but it didn’t matter.  It wasn’t his to worry about.  Kurt was there; Kurt would take care of everything.  All Blaine had to do was stay still and be good.

 

The gag didn’t even tickle at his throat anymore – it was just there, comforting and invasive in the best of ways, making Blaine open up and relax and just let everything go.  It was always like that, with the gag.  It’d choke him at first, as every so often he breathed in just the wrong way and triggered his gag reflex and made it a fight not to tear it off so it was *gone*, so he could *breathe* and then it became just another part of him, like his collar, his cuffs – just another piece of Kurt holding him together.

 

Blaine’s eyelids were heavy and his head was heavy and his *body* was heavy, and if it weren’t for the floor, the wall, he thought he might just sink into the ground, melt away into it until there was nothing left.   There was a gentle tug on his collar, pulling his head up and away from its resting place and Blaine let the weight of his head fall on his collar instead, trusting Kurt to hold him up.

 

A hand immediately snaked around to the front of his throat, supporting him, as he heard his boyfriend scold him.  “Don’t do that, Blaine.  You know that’s not safe.”

 

Of course it was safe.  It was *Kurt.*

 

Blaine heard a sigh and then Kurt was tilting his head upwards, making him look up at his boyfriend, crouched on the floor next to him.   His eyelids still felt so heavy, but he forced them to stay open, because Kurt liked to see his eyes, always said he wanted to see his beautiful eyes.

 

Kurt was smiling.  “Guess who’s here to see you, honey.”

 

Blaine blinked slowly.  Mike and Tina had been coming over, hadn’t they?  It all seemed so unimportant now that Blaine wasn’t sure.

 

Then he was being guided to lean against Kurt’s chest and Blaine almost wanted to protest because he was going to get Kurt’s shirt dirty but he was still wearing the gag and anyway it didn’t matter because that wasn’t his to worry about, it wasn’t his job to worry about things, just to listen to Kurt and be good and he *was* good, a good boy; he’d always be good for Kurt.

 

Kurt pulled him back up again and then the gag was coming out and Blaine unthinkingly chased after it with his mouth, open and aching and *empty* and it made his boyfriend laugh.  “That’s enough of that.”

 

Kurt’s voice was fond, but firm, and Blaine knew he wasn’t getting the gag back but his mouth felt so strange now, so empty and different and not his at all and he was pouting now, he knew he was, but he couldn’t help it, he wanted it back.  Kurt was pressing a glass of water to his lips and *oh*, Blaine hadn’t even realized how thirsty he was and he gulped eagerly at it, but Kurt was Kurt and only let him have a little at a time, slowly till it all was gone.  Then the glass was replaced with a warm washcloth and Kurt was gently cleaning his face, wiping away drool and dried tears.  His hands were next – he must have drooled on them without even noticing – and then Kurt sat the washcloth aside and Blaine knew what was coming next, he *did*, and sure enough then Kurt was reaching for his hands again, deft fingers on the locks and Blaine must have been whining without realizing it because Kurt had started shushing him, murmuring assurances that Blaine was a good boy, that he could have them back later, but that they had to  come off now and that just wasn’t *fair*, why couldn’t he keep them?

 

Kurt ignored Blaine and unclipped the cuffs, letting Blaine’s hands hang free.  Reaching up, Kurt stroked Blaine’s hair back from his forehead and Blaine leaned into it, he *had* to.  Kurt’s hand disappeared to join its mate in wrapping around Blaine’s wrists again, covering the cuffs.  Blaine tensed, trying not to pull away, but it was hard because he knew Kurt was going to take them off and everything in him was crying out in protest, it was too soon, he still needed them, he couldn’t bear the thought of their weight gone, of losing the comfort of their grip.

 

“Okay, honey.  It’s okay.”  Kurt’s voice was soothing.  “You can keep them on a while longer.  But I need you to get up now.  Can you do that for me, Blaine?”

 

Now that Blaine wasn’t quite as floaty, the pain from kneeling so long was catching back up with him.  His knees ached and his legs were all pins and needles and he wasn’t sure he *could* stand up, but Kurt wanted him to and so he would.  In the end, Kurt had to help him, steadying him as he stood and practically holding him up for a few minutes when he first got to his feet because Blaine’s legs were about to give out under him.

 

In other circumstances, Blaine might have been embarrassed, but right then his difficulty standing meant he got to be pressed right up against Kurt, meant he got to rest his weight against his boyfriend and feel again just how strong Kurt was, how safe, and okay, Blaine might have let Kurt hold him up for a minute or so more than really necessary but could anyone really blame him?

 

As blood rushed to his legs, burning away the pins and needles in a painful, firey rush, Blaine closed his eyes and just soaked in the warmth of Kurt’s body, reveled in the strong arms surrounding him and the slightly citrus scent of Kurt’s shampoo.  All too soon, however, the sharp awareness of Kurt and the soft fuzziness of everything else started to balance each other out, and Blaine could feel that wonderful floaty feeling slipping away.  He wanted it back (oh how he wanted it back), but as his mind slowly started to clear he realized that Mike and Tina had arrived.

 

Blaine knew he ought to be feeling embarrassed that they’d seen him like this, but he felt too good right then to really care.  Anyway, they’d seen much worse the night before, and it wasn’t like Tina hadn’t settled him down herself a time or two.  But Mike –

 

If Blaine hadn’t still been half floaty, he probably would have been very uncomfortable right about now.  It was really hard to get anxious when he felt like this, though.

 

Which, in retrospect, was probably another reason Kurt had wanted him to have corner-time.

 

Blaine wasn’t quite sure how he felt about using subspace as a social crutch, but there was no point in worrying about it now.  He felt…lazy?  Lethargic?  No, *languid*, that was the word, and content, and wow, Kurt’s shirt was really soft.  Was it always this soft?

 

Blaine hadn’t even realized his hands had been wandering until Kurt grabbed his wrists firmly and made him stop.  He hadn’t mean to, he just got so…*touchy* when he was floaty.  When he was drunk, too.  Everything just felt so *good*, so much better than normal, so much *more*.

 

“—okay, Blaine?”

 

Guiltily, Blaine realized Kurt had been talking to him.  “Yes?” He hazarded an answer, but Kurt used his magic Kurt powers and somehow just knew Blaine hadn’t been paying attention, sighing and repeating himself.

 

“I *said*, I need to go check on dinner.  I want you to stay with Tina and Mike, okay?”

 

Blaine frowned.  He didn’t want Kurt to go.

 

“I know, honey, but I have to check on dinner.  I’ll be back soon.”

 

But—

 

“Did you hear about Mike’s guest dance instructor yet?”

 

Blaine twisted around a little to look at Tina, shaking his head no.  He hadn’t.  And now he was curious.  From the tone of Tina’s voice, the story had to be a good one.

 

Tina smiled and stretched out a hand from where she sat on the couch.  “Come join me, then, and I’ll make Mike tell you all about it.”

Blaine glanced back at Kurt, torn, but his boyfriend just turned him back around and gave him a little push toward Mike and Tina, landing a stinging swat on the seat of Blaine's pants as encouragement.

"Go on, beautiful," Kurt said from behind him, and that was that.  Blaine stumbled toward the couch and automatically started to fall to his knees at Tina's feet, but Mike was suddenly behind him, holding him up by the elbows.

"Blaine, Kurt said no."

Kurt *had* said no.  Blaine had just ... forgot.

Tina's laugh was like bells.  "I'm sure."

"C'mon," Mike said from behind him.  "Up on the couch."

***

By the time Kurt came back out to announce that dinner was ready, Blaine had gone from sitting next to Tina listening to Mike recount a (admittedly hilarious) story about his guest teacher, who apparently put (Rachel’s nyada instructor) to shame, to being curled up with his head in Tina’s lap as he listened to the rise and fall of Tina and Mike’s voices as they conversed quietly.  He didn’t really care what they were talking about, just that Tina kept running her fingers through his hair.  He was all hazy again, and it occured to him that he hadn’t wanted to do that but he wasn’t sure why anymore, because why would he ever want to not feel like this?

There was a cool hand on his face now, gently running a thumb across his lips, and Blaine reluctantly opened his eyes.  Kurt was crouched down in front of him, and he smiled when he saw Blaine’s eyes open.  “It’s time to eat, honey.”

Blaine really didn’t feel all that hungry.

Kurt’s smile was fond.  “I know you don’t, beautiful, but you still need to.”  He gently flicked Blaine’s nose, making Blaine pull back in surprise.  “Besides, you’re about to lose your pillow, anyway.”

Blaine scrunched up his face in complaint, but allowed Kurt to pull him to his feet, pliantly following his boyfriend into the dining room.  The world started to come back into focus as he ate, and he was able to commiserate with Tina about her horrible professor, even sharing some horror stories of his own  (seriously, how did these people even graduate high school, much less obtain a doctorate in education?).

As dinner went on, however, he slowly started getting more and more annoyed by Kurt - his habit of gesturing as he talked and the little poses he couldn’t help but strike were no longer endearing as usual but grated instead.  His snide little comments and need to always be part of the conversation - Blaine couldn’t help but roll his eyes when Kurt referred yet again to his job at Vogue.com - honestly, couldn’t he go five minutes without name-dropping?  

Blaine knew his irritation must be showing, could tell by Mike’s raised eyebrows that he must be being snide himself and by Kurt’s firmly pursed lips that he was damn close to crossing the line, if he hadn’t already - but what was Kurt going to do? Spank him?  Mike and Tina were there.  

Wiping his mouth with a napkin, Kurt stood up.  “Blaine, may I talk to you in private?”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”  Kurt’s voice had gone cold and furious, and Blaine would’ve almost been scared by it if he hadn’t been so shocked by his own behavior.  He’d never told Kurt no like that before, never been so rude.  He wanted to apologize, to drop to his knees and beg forgiveness, but his mouth seemed to be operating all on its own.

“I said ‘No.’  Do you need to have your hearing checked?”  Blaine crossed his arms defiantly, trying to hide the tremble in his hands.  He was committed now and there was no turning back.

Kurt was taking slow deliberate breaths now, visibly considering and discarding various replies.  Finally he spoke, but not to Blaine. “You know, I didn’t realize until now that I’d completely forgotten about dessert when I was making dinner.  And really, what’s dinner without dessert?”

“Hardly dinner at all,” Tina said, just a little too brightly.  “I know!  Why don’t we go down to that bakery you like so much and pick up a cheesecake?”

Blaine couldn’t help the disgusted sound he let slip, and suddenly everyone was looking at him again.

“Blaine? You love cheesecake.”  Mike said quietly, confusedly.

“No, Kurt loves cheesecake.  I’m fucking sick of it.”

“That’s enough, Blaine.”  Kurt’s voice cracked like a whip, and Blaine couldn’t help but flinch back from it.  “We’ll go to the store and get a cheesecake and that chocolate cake you like so much, and you will stay here and get that attitude under control, you understand me?”

Blaine just managed to keep his mouth shut on the snappy retort that tried to make its way out, crossing his arms and nodding his head tightly.  Fine.  Fine.  Kurt didn’t like his attitude?  Well, that was just fine.

“I’ll stay,” Mike volunteered.  “I mean, if that’s okay with you, Blaine.”

Blaine shrugged, staring angrily at his plate.  How dare Kurt treat him like that, scold him like a child, in front of their friends?

“Great!”  Tina chirped.  “We’ll be back before you know it.  Right, Kurt?”

“Right,” Kurt said.  Blaine didn’t dare look up to see the expression on his face.  Kurt had sounded so stern, yes, but disappointed even more so and Blaine was angry with him, he was, he had a right to be, the way Kurt was acting but there was a small part of him that kept whispering that Kurt was right and that he should be ashamed of himself and Blaine was afraid that if he looked up and actually saw the disappointment on Kurt’s face he’d end up dropping to his knees and begging for forgiveness right then and there and that wasn’t going to happen, it wasn’t.  Kurt thought Blaine was out of line?  Kurt was out of line.

Blaine stubbornly kept his gaze down as Kurt and Tina lingered for several long minutes.  What, did Kurt expect a sudden change of heart or something?  Blaine wasn’t a fucking pushover, okay.  Kurt shouldn’t just expect him to roll over and bare his metaphorical belly at the slightest hint of disappointment.

(Blaine determinedly ignored the fact that historically speaking this had always been the case.)

Finally, he heard Kurt sigh loudly and the rustle of coats.  Blaine tensed up as he heard footsteps coming near him, but Kurt didn’t say a word, just dropped a quick kiss on the top of his head.

Then he and Tina were gone, and it was just Blaine and Mike.

“Alone at last!” Blaine heard Mike joke from across the table, and reflexively smiled a little in response, but stayed scrunched up in his seat. He’d felt the cold draft of the apartment door opening and closing, and the click of it shutting had sounded so final and all of a sudden Blaine was terrified that Kurt was out there, talking with Tina about the best way to break up with his obviously crazy asshole of a boyfriend - god, had he really acted like that?  really?  What the fuck was wrong with him?  Kurt should break up with him.  Kurt deserved better than some flake of a sub who freaked out after a super fucking hot scene and then acted like a jerk for absolutely no reason at all.

Kurt deserved better, Kurt deserved the best and Blaine was so, so far from being the best; he was the fucking worst -

“Hey.”

Blaine startled at the touch on his shoulder.  He hadn’t even heard Mike get up.

“You okay?” Mike asked.

Blaine drew in a ragged breath.  “Fine,” he lied.  Mike didn’t deserve to have to listen to Blaine’s fucking inadequacies, he’d seen enough already and and it wasn’t like Blaine didn’t already know he was a terrible sub, a terrible boyfriend, he didn’t have to be a terrible friend, too, and make Mike listen to him crying about losing the love of his life (again) and it being his own damn fault (again).  Mike and Tina were his friends, sure, and good ones, but they were Kurt’s friends first.  He’d be lucky if they ever talked to him again, once they’d left and Kurt could finally officially break up with him.

(One saving grace - Kurt wouldn’t break up with him in front of other people.  He was too kind for that, too good.  He wouldn’t want to humiliate Blaine, even though Blaine deserved it.  So he had a few hours yet.  A few hours to pretend he was still Kurt’s.  And even if it was just pretend, it was better than nothing.)

Blaine cleared his throat, trying to blink away tears.  “I should,” he gestured at the table.  “Um.  Why don’t you go see what’s on TV?  Or we have an x-box - well, I have an x-box; Kurt doesn’t use it - feel free to play any of the games, or - I don’t know, just sit and relax -”

“Blaine.”

Blaine had to brace himself against yet another wave of bone-deep anguish at the gentle concern in Mike’s voice.  It hurt, physically hurt, knowing he was about to lose everything and it was all his fucking fault.  He quickly stepped away to keep out of Mike’s reach - he could tell Mike was about to try to hug him, or put a consoling hand on his shoulder, or something and Blaine knew, he just knew that if that happened he’d shatter apart and he couldn’t do that to Mike, just couldn’t.  It wouldn’t be fair.

Instead he determinedly started collecting the dirty dishes from the table while listing off all the x-box games he had in a forcibly light tone.  “Oh!  Or we have DDR; I bet you love DDR - you’ve got to have like, mad skills at it - or maybe not, I mean, as a real dancer I guess it’d be kind of an affront to your sensibilities, right?”

“Blaine,” Mike said again, softly, and Blaine fell silent abruptly as the solid warmth of Mike’s hands settled on both of his shoulders, holding him still.  Blaine couldn’t quite prevent the small sound he made at the contact - every nerve in his body seemed to be focused on the sharp ache that radiated out from the warmth of Mike’s touch - it wasn’t enough, could never be enough, wasn’t Kurt - and the plates were shaking in his hands and now Mike was pressed all the way up against his back as he took the plates out of Blaine’s hands and Blaine couldn’t stand it, he couldn’t --

And then his knees gave way and he was falling, except he wasn’t, because Mike was there, holding him up and Blaine turned, he couldn’t help it, turned and buried his face in Mike’s shoulder and let Mike’s quiet strength hold him up as he broke apart.

It’s okay, it’s going to be okay, Mike was saying over and over again and it just made Blaine cry harder because how could it ever be okay again?


End file.
